


Don't Let Me Go

by alanna_the_lionheart



Series: post 4x09 ficlets [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Coda, Drama, Episode Tag, F/M, Kisses, Love, Major Character Injury, Marriage Proposal, One Shot, Post Episode: s04e09 Dark Waters, Romance, Shooting, Short One Shot, Tenderness, Touching, Violence, arrow season 4, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 11:05:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7434422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alanna_the_lionheart/pseuds/alanna_the_lionheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver hasn't let go of Felicity since she put her hand on top of his and said "yes." He hasn't let go of her since she smiled at him and said that she'd make him the happiest man on Earth. As he holds her hand in the limo, he vows to never let go again. And then the bullets hit. A take on what goes through Oliver’s mind as he pulls Felicity into the limo...and as he pulls her out of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Let Me Go

**Author's Note:**

> A 4x09 missing moment/AU fic. I wrote this back before 4x10 came out, so it’s AU at this point. But I found it in my WIP folder and decided to polish it up and post it. Hopefully it’s still good anyway.

**Don’t Let Me Go**

 

Oliver hasn't let go of Felicity since she put her hand on top of his and said "yes." He hasn't let go of Felicity since she smiled at him and said that she'd make him the happiest man on Earth. He hasn't let go of Felicity since she agreed to be _his_ : his wife, his light, his whole world, his everything.

 

He’d held her hand as she kissed him: her lips still shaking from her surprised, delighted laughter; her "yes" still ringing in his ears. He’d held her hand as he slid the ring on her finger, his own hands trembling from a combination of nerves and overwhelming joy. He’d held her hand as he pulled her to her feet. He let go only once to wrap his arms around her and pull her into a tight hug. Then her hand was back in his - right where it belonged - as he’d led her quickly to their limo.

 

A tiny voice in his head had tried to convince him that he should stay and mingle - at least hug his sister and his best friend and his future mother-in-law - but the voice in his head that had _screamed_ at him to get this beautiful woman back to their home and make love to her until the sun came up had drowned out everything else.

 

He’d focused on the feel of her hand in his as he climbed into the limo, pulling her in behind him. She’d collapsed onto the bench beside him with a giggle, bumping his shoulder with hers and squeezing his hand tightly. Her excitement was contagious, and Oliver had found himself laughing as he told the driver to take them home.

 

**_Home._ **

 

The word takes on new meaning for him every day. His physical home has changed so much over the years, but it was only recently that he'd begun to really appreciate the idea of home existing outside of a place. During those five years of hell, he’d thought of nothing but eventually returning to Starling City. Even when he wasn't quite ready to go back, he knew he'd return one day.

 

But now, gazing across the seat at the woman next to him - her eyes shiny with unshed tears, a warm smile lighting up her face - Oliver knows, more than ever, that _she_ is his home. _She_ is his happiness and his light; she is, quite literally, his Felicity. _She_ is what he's been looking for all these years...and now he's found her.

 

Oliver has found his home, and he's not letting her go anytime soon.

 

Felicity tears her gaze away from the ring just long enough to smile at him, and she kisses him softly. Oliver kisses her back, but he's still smiling, and he accidentally grazes her upper lip with his teeth. She moans slightly, and Oliver grips her hand tighter, the desire to get her back to their place a physical ache in his chest.

 

Felicity nips his lip in retaliation, and he actually chuckles against her mouth. She pulls away and beams up at him.

 

"I'll never get tired of hearing you laugh, Oliver,” she says, reaching up with her right hand to run her fingers gently over the corner of his mouth. Oliver’s smile widens in response to her touch, and she sighs happily. She smooths her fingertips over his lips, and Oliver kisses them lightly. “And I’ll never get tired of seeing you smile,” she whispers fondly. “It looks good on you.”

 

Oliver smiles even wider, her fingers tracing a path over his mole, across his stubbled cheek, and down his jaw before her hand finds its way back to her lap.

 

"You make me happy," he responds simply, and Felicity blushes slightly as she turns away, facing forward in her seat. Her gaze lands on their intertwined hands, and she stares hard at the ring on her finger. She opens her hand, tilting it slightly to get a better view of it in the dim light.

 

Oliver doesn't look down at the ring. He's seen it a million times: wondering how to give it to her, or when to give it to her; wondering if she'd say "yes." Right now he only has eyes for _her._ Oliver strokes her open palm gently with his fingers, his eyes never leaving her face, still smiling that smile he's now come to think of as _hers_.

 

"It looks even bigger in here," she says, and when she pulls her hand away from his to look at the ring closer, Oliver's hand twitches against his will. He frowns just the slightest, his hand wavering back and forth, searching helplessly for hers. His hand feels cold already, missing her warm touch, but she's too lost in staring at the ring on her finger. He fights the urge to grab her hand himself, not wanting to deny her this chance to marvel, and he waits. He drums his fingers nervously against his knee, yearning to touch her again. The loss of such a small touch hurts him more than it should. He tries to focus instead on the feel of her knee pressed against his, her body snuggled close to his on the limo seat.

 

He doesn't want to let go of her: not now, and not ever.

 

Finally, after what seems like forever, she lowers her hand back to his, playing lightly with his fingers, and suddenly everything's right with the world again.

 

"To tell you the truth I don't even care about the bling...." Felicity states.

 

Oliver smiles broadly at her. It never ceases to amaze him how he falls more and more in love with her every day.

 

"All I care about...is _you_ ," she finishes.

 

He kisses her tenderly, reveling in the feel of her lips warm and soft under his. He pulls away for just a moment before kissing her again. When he pulls away once more, he nuzzles his nose against hers with a quiet sigh. He glides his nose gently up the bridge of hers, then rests it against her forehead, marveling at the quiet intimacy of the moment.

 

Oliver Queen has kissed Felicity Smoak more times than he can count, but this one might be his favorite. It's tender and loving, familiar and yet new, and it fills his heart with warmth and light. He can't wait to kiss her like this again.

 

He almost lost her tonight. He came _so close_ ; closer than he's ever wanted to get. But she's here with him now: warm, and safe. He wants to spend the rest of his life growing old with her...and she wants to spend the rest of her life with him, too.

 

Oliver grips her fingers tightly, that nervous twitch in his hand a mere memory.

 

He's never letting go again.

 

...And then the bullets hit.

 

He doesn't think twice about throwing himself on top of her, covering her body with his. He readjusts his position as glass starts to fly, shoving her hard against the limo seat, and she cries out. He can't tell if it's a cry of pain or fear, but the sound breaks his heart, and he reaches up with his right hand and covers her face.

 

"It's okay," he says soothingly, and god, this is everything _but_ okay, but he'd do anything to calm her. He'd do anything to make her stop trembling beneath him, to erase that terrified look in her eyes, to calm her panicked breathing, to quiet her cries. And so Oliver does the only thing he _can_ do: he shields her body with his, covering every inch of her that he can reach; desperate to protect her, because he thought he lost her once already tonight and he can't do it again, not _ever_.

 

Oliver tries to make himself bigger, to cover as much of her body with his as he can. He flinches as glass pours down on top of him and a bullet whizzes past his ear, just missing him. Felicity's sobbing now, and Oliver would give his own life in a heartbeat if it would save her from this. Instead he covers her hand with his, gently stroking her fingers, and he tells her once more that it's okay.

 

She whimpers his name.

 

"I'm here," he tells her, draping his arm over her face as one the side windows shatters.

 

The words have barely left his mouth when it suddenly hits him:

 

He has to leave her.

 

He doesn't want to - God help him, it's the _last_ thing he wants to do - but he has to.

 

He doesn't want to let go - not now, not ever - but he doesn't have a choice. If he doesn't try and move this limo, they're both dead.

 

Leaving her alone in the back of that limo is the hardest thing Oliver's ever done in his life.

 

But putting himself out in the open - in the direct line of fire - in order to get her away from this nightmare? That might be the easiest.

 

Miraculously, he makes it to the driver's seat. He shoves the dead driver aside, slams on the gas, and drives. He veers to the right to avoid the car in front of him, slamming the pedal harder to get the limo up and over the median. He clutches the wheel in his hands and holds his breath as the limo straddles the concrete divider and somehow keeps going. He doesn't breathe again until the limo touches back down on the ground, so hard that the back window shatters.

 

He turns the first corner he finds and keeps driving.

 

He's tempted to just keep driving straight to the police station, but a few blocks away he squeals around a tight corner and stops the limo in the middle of the street, his heart catching in his throat at the thought of the only thing that matters:

 

Felicity.

 

Oliver reaches through the broken window and opens the door. He struggles shakily out of the car, slamming the door closed behind him out of habit. He stumbles slightly, his legs trembling and his knees weak as the spike of adrenaline in his blood begins to subside.

 

There are no more bullets flying, no more Ghosts. It's safe now, she can get out of the car...so why isn't she getting out of the car?

 

Oliver shouts her name as he moves to the back door. She's just being extra safe, he tells himself. He'll open up the door, he'll tell her everything's all right now, and she'll fly into his arms. He'll kiss her, feel her breath warm against his face. He'll hold her close, feel her heart beat against his chest. She's going to be fine.

 

Oliver grabs the handle and pulls the door open.

 

"Hey!" he says eagerly.

 

It's the same word he's said to her a million times before.

 

_Hey! How was work?_

 

_Hey, hey. You're safe, you’re safe, I'm here._

_  
_ _Hey...you’re not gonna lose me._

 

_Hey...you will always be my girl, Felicity._

 

He's said "hey" to her so many times over the years he's lost count, and she's always answered him back. He doesn't expect this time to be any different.

 

But then she collapses into his arms, and the world falls out from under his feet.

 

As Oliver struggles to get his arms around her, a brief image flashes through his mind: an image of Felicity climbing out of the gas chamber and throwing herself into his arms. He'd held her strong and sure then; so relieved to have her back that he hadn't faltered at all.

 

But now...

 

Oliver struggles to accept what's happening, and his knees begin to buckle underneath him as he pulls her out of the car. She's limp, and heavy...and cold.

 

He wraps his arms around her, and as her legs fall so do his. He collapses under her; under the weight of his whole world falling apart.

 

God, she's so _small._ He's never really noticed it before; not until he holds her in his arms on the pavement, her arm draped over his leg and her hand resting on his knee. Her head lolls against his shoulder, and as he looks down at her right side he finds blood.

 

There's so much of it, too much; her right side is _coated_ in it. It's seeped through both her dress and her coat, turning the lovely pink shade a dark crimson. Oliver looks back up to her face, trying desperately to reconcile the warm, smiling, beautiful Felicity of three minutes ago with the cold, quiet, deathly still woman he holds in his arms now.

 

He reaches a trembling hand up to her neck, searching desperately for a pulse, and his heart skips a beat when he finds one...but it's barely there.

 

Oliver looks around desperately.

 

He needs help. He can't do this by himself. He can't.

 

He just got her back, and now...

 

He can't lose her.

 

He traces shaking fingers along her neck, along the line of her jaw, and gently caresses her cheek. Her skin is pale and cold under his touch, and he continues to stroke her face.

 

“Stay with me,” he begs her, and his voice breaks as he whispers, “ _please_.”

 

He thought he was doing the right thing, leaving her in the back of that limo, but that bullet was meant for _him_ ; he should have been there to take it. How could he have left her?

 

He reaches for her right hand, resting gently on his knee. He grabs it, squeezes it tight, desperately needing to feel her hold him back like she did before.

 

Her hand lies cold and limp in his.

 

Oliver chokes on a sob and shakes his head.

 

"No," he whispers. "Please, no. Felicity?"

 

He pulls her closer, his body trembling, and he knows he needs to do something. He needs to get up, put her back in the limo, take her to the hospital, do _something_ , but he can't make himself move. He's frozen in shock.

 

Did she call out to him as she lay in pain, bleeding out alone in the backseat? Did she beg for him to help her? Did she cry for him before she passed out?

 

"Felicity?"

 

He gazes down at her face, at the line of blood dribbling from her lips. He'd kissed those lips no more than three minutes ago; those lips that were once so warm, now cold and stained red with blood.

 

He told her it was going to be okay. She should be okay. Why isn't she okay?

 

She doesn't deserve this. Not her. Not this kind, smart, funny, beautiful woman. She deserves so much more than this; so much more than _him._

 

He fights back his tears and reaches up to her face again, stroking her cheek with trembling fingers.

 

"Open your eyes, baby,” he begs her. “ _Please_."

 

She lies quiet and still in his arms.

 

His whole world, his Felicity.

 

Cold.

 

So cold.

 

Oliver feels himself growing cold, too. He vaguely hears footsteps behind him, and he prays that whoever's here has come to kill him, because he can't face another minute on this earth without her.

 

He feels a firm hand on his shoulder, hears a familiar voice calling his name, but the only voice he wants to hear right now is _hers._

 

Oliver shakes his head and whimpers, burying his face against Felicity's neck. If he's going to die, this is where he wants to do it: with her.

 

The hand lets go of his shoulder and a second voice calls his name, but the only voice that matters has gone quiet...maybe forever. Oliver shudders at the thought, and the tears finally fall as he wraps his arms tighter around his fiance and screams.

 

"FELICITY!"

 

**_...the end…_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and I hope you liked it. Comments are appreciated as always. :)


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